


Banana

by Dragonkat



Series: Sterek Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, Lazy Sex, M/M, Makeup Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4674560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonkat/pseuds/Dragonkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know Stiles would be pissed if he lost at Mario Kart. You know he would. Now how will Derek make it up to him?</p>
<p>Based off of a tumblr prompt.<br/>Prompt: I beat you at Mario Kart and now I’ve been banished to the couch for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Banana

**Author's Note:**

> Once again set in a vague setting where everything is fine and peachy and they're together because I say so.
> 
> Like my last Sterek oneshot, this started out in one direction and then drove off the side of the road, into a ravine and floated down a river. A river of smut. It was supposed to be just a fluffy piece. Then sex happened. I swear this happens with all of my oneshots. 
> 
> Best laid plans of fanfiction writers often end up in the gutter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek slowly set down his controller, eyes wide as the results flashed on the screen of their TV screen. He gulped and chanced a glance at his boyfriend, sitting stock still beside him on the couch.  
    

"Stiles," he called softly. His lover had been quiet for over five minutes which either meant he was asleep, blissed out post orgasm, or gravely ill.  
    

Stiles was certainly not asleep and Derek hadn't sexed him up since a particularly memorable if perilous shower that morning. Stiles also wasn't sick, though he did look quite pale.  
  

"Stiles," he said again, louder.  
    

"I can't believe it."  
    

This was worse than Derek thought. Stiles sounded completely calm, which meant he was anything but. This was a DEFCON 1 level of trouble Derek was in. The dropping of Stiles' signed copy of Harry Potter: The Sorcerer's Stone into a bubble bath was looking like a cake walk compared to this.  
  

"Stiles. Babe, I'm sorry."  
    

"You beat me."  
    

"I know-"  
    

"On Rainbow Road."  
    

"Yes, but-"  
    

"You always die. You never do better than 8th place."  
    

"I've gotten 7th once." Derek went for joking his way out of this, not knowing why. Stiles sometimes used humor to calm down Derek when he was mad, but Stiles was anything but indulging when really angry.   
    

Stiles' face transformed from shocked stillness to rage in an instant. "You tripped me with a fucking banana at the goddamn finish line." He said darkly.  
    

Derek swallowed thickly, looking around their apartment wildly for a subject change, or an open window to hurl himself out of. Where was a sudden ninja attack when you needed it? "It was a lucky shot?"  
    

"Lucky!? LUCKY! You threw a stupid fucking banana in my fucking way. You ruined my chances at victory. I came in fifth Derek. Me, in fifth!"  
    

"Stiles, babe, I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you," Derek reached out as he said this, hoping to somehow head off this situation before it blew up in his face.  
    

Stiles growled and threw his own game controller at Derek's head. Derek barely got out of the way by diving off the couch. When he looked up Stiles was storming out of the room. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight, Hale. I don't want to see your stupid face again."  
    

With that said, Stiles slammed the door to their bedroom closed, the framed picture from their one year anniversary swaying sadly on the wall beside the door frame.  
    

Derek sighed and dropped his head to the coffee table, banging his forehead a couple times.  
    

Banned to sleeping on the couch. Over a stupid fucking banana.

*****

Their couch had been bought for two reasons. One, to be pleasantly cushy when you sat and played video games/watched movies/guiltily binge watched Project Runway. Two, to have stain resistant fabric for the copious amounts of sex they had on the thing in reactions to winning in co-op mode/getting bored with their movie selection/comfort when a favorite contestant is axed from the show.  
    

What their couch had not been bought for was sleeping on. It had lumpy cushions great for sitting on but not so much for lying across. His left hip was aching after an hour, and any time he shifted one of the springs squeaked, waking him from the light doze he could manage. This went on for hours, until he finally gave up an hour before sunrise. His body ached and his head was heavy from so little sleep but he decided to get a head start on making last night up to Stiles.  
    

It was silly really, the fact that he had been banished to the couch for beating Stiles at his favorite video game. But Derek got it. Sometimes you get so invested in something, so dependent on things happening a certain way that when things are thrown on their head, all you can do is react. And react badly. Stiles had been a wonderfully understanding boyfriend when Derek had flipped out in the past over something silly and frivolous in hindsight. If Stiles could keep it cool when Derek was off his rocker for something stupid, then he could do the same in return.  
    

He turned on the kitchen light, wincing at the florescent shine that made his eyes ache even more. Derek slowly, but methodically got out ingredients for homemade pancakes. He hesitated over one ingredient, wondering if he should use it or not. Would Stiles consider it a reminder, a slap in the face, or a joke, a playful nudge? Derek sighed and finished making their breakfast.    
    

With the pancakes done he loaded a tray with two plates of hot fluffy goodness, two classes of juice, two cups of coffee, and a flower he picked from the front of their apartment when he got the mail and newspaper that morning.  At the last moment he grabbed an example of the offensive culprit from last night for Stiles to either eat or demolish. Stiles was a fan of grim humor when he wasn’t upset. Derek balanced the entire thing on one arm as he quietly opened the door to their bedroom.  
  

It was gloomy inside, the curtains still drawn and no lights on. Derek could barely make out the lump on the right side of the bed that was his boyfriend, sleeping with his back to the door and curled up in a ball. He frowned and moved into the room, leaving the door open behind him. He could tell Stiles wasn’t asleep because he usually took up the whole bed if he was on his own, and Derek usually had to wrap him up with his body to get him to sleep peacefully when they were in bed together.  
    

Derek walked around the bed, pushing aside the collection of comics and books on the nightstand on Stiles’ side of the bed to set the tray down. He took a moment to look at his boyfriend, the only part of him visible was the top of his head, dark hair messy against his pillow. Derek slowly sat down in the hollow where Stiles was bent, pressing his hip into Stiles’ stomach. The body under the covers moved a bit, but didn’t pull away.  
    

So far, so good.  
    

Derek leaned down and wrapped his body around the lump in bed as best as he could, resting his head on Stiles’ arm. “I’m sorry, babe,” he murmured, kissing the duvet covering his boyfriend’s shoulder.  
        

Stiles started wiggling around, huffing and getting the covers pushed down enough to expose his face. He was frowning, dark circles under his eyes that were streaked with red. It looks like Derek wasn’t the only one who hadn’t gotten any sleep.  
    

“Why the hell are you apologizing? I reacted like an absolute monster. I threw a projectile at your head.”  
    

Derek felt all the tension in his body go out in one breath, leaving him slumped against Stiles. He grinned and leaned up to kiss Stiles’ nose. “You weren’t a monster. You were just upset.”  
    

“Over a stupid video game.”  
    

“Babe, remember when I broke the coffee table when Amanda didn’t win the last season of that show we don’t tell anyone we watch.”  
    

“But you were upset. Her final gown was fabulous.”  
    

Derek just raised an eyebrow, smiling at his boyfriend as realization slowly started to dawn. “Ah… right.” Stiles said sheepishly.  
    

“I think we’re allowed to go a little crazy every once in a while. You are dating me, after all.”  
    

“Pfft. Like it’s any hardship to date you, look at you. With those muscles and the cheekbones and those eyes. Now me on the other hand, I still can’t believe you aren’t in a strait jacket yet because of dating me.”  
    

Derek chuckled, climbing over Stiles so he could spoon him, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Let’s just agree that we’re both a little nuts to be dating each other.”  
    

“Yeah,” Stiles said fondly, wiggling around so they could face each other. Derek grunted when he got an elbow in the solar plexus and a kick to his shin. It was all a usual occurrence though, when he had Stiles in bed. He was all limbs and little coordination, even when they were having sex.  
    

Speaking of…  
    

Derek took his turn to wriggle on top of their bed, getting himself under the covers and pressed up against Stiles. His boyfriend hummed happily when Derek climbed on top of him, slotting himself in the cradle of Stiles’ hips. “I still feel a little bad about last night. Tell me how I can make it up to you. Whatever you want,” as Derek said this he rotated his hips a bit, rubbing their groins together softly.  
    

Stiles sighed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes at the mellow pleasure. “Anything I want,” he murmured, licking his lips. Derek followed the subtle tease with his eyes.  Stiles had all of these unconscious actions that always got Derek's blood pumping south. Anything to do with his mouth in particular, had Derek’s mind in the gutter in seconds flat.  
    

“Anything, babe,” he said softly, leaning in to suck a kiss on the underside of Stiles’ chin, his boyfriends’ stubble scrapping his lips.  
    

“Hmm. I want lazy morning sex. You know, the kind we do on Sunday morning and have nowhere to be.” Stiles whispered back.  
    

“It is Sunday morning, Stiles.”  
    

“Then hop to it mister.”  
    

Derek chuckled and lifted himself enough to slowly peel off their clothes, all the while sucking biting kisses on Stiles’ neck, not quite enough to bruise, but enough to leave a lasting impression of his amorous intentions. Morning sex on Sunday was a tradition dating all the way back to the beginning of their relationship. It had variations of course, ranging from hungover clumsy rutting to full on loud intercourse that had gotten them complaints to the superintendent of their first apartment.   
    

Derek spread out over Stiles’ body, both of them moaning as their naked skin met. Stiles kept his eyes closed, humming and sighing as Derek rocked against him. Derek wrapped both arms underneath his boyfriend’s shoulders, letting his fingers run through Stiles’ hair. He leaned down and pressed their mouths together, a chaste press of lips over and over. He kissed Stiles’ full bottom lip, nipping it gently to invoke the shiver his lover always did at the action, then he kissed his top lip, tongue tracing over his cupid's bow.  
    

By now their cocks were equally hard between the press of their hips, getting hotter and sweatier as their bodies undulated against one another. Derek rocked his hips back and forth in counterpoint to the little circle Stiles made with his. Their erections dragged against each other, smearing precome in their wake. Stiles moaned and dug his fingers into Derek’s hair, holding his head still as he turned their lazy kisses into something much more ardent. Derek growled as Stiles rhythmically licked into his mouth, following the motion of his hips.  
    

Derek shifted to let one arm brace under Stiles’ back while the other reached in between them. The delighted sound his lover made as he grabbed both of their cocks in his hand caused Derek’s hips to stutter. Damn, Stiles made such delicious sounds in bed. If the real world didn’t exist outside of their apartment, Derek would keep them there forever, wrangling every last sound he could from Stiles’ throat.  
He flexed his fingers around their erections, thumb rubbing the head of his own cock while his fingertips pressed against Stiles’. They both groaned when their hips accommodated the new stimulation, rocking in counterpoint so their dicks rubbed against each other and Derek’s hand. The moist heat their bodies generated and the precome already speared between them was enough lubrication not to chafe but still cause a delightful friction.  
    

Stiles broke of their kiss so he could suck in great gulps of air, breath hitching in the way that said he was getting close. Derek pressed his face into his boyfriend’s exposed neck, his own chest heaving as he reacted in tandem with Stiles. He licked a wet stripe up the side of his boyfriend’s neck, tracing the moles there he had long ago committed to memory. He squeezed his hand, not moving to allow their hips to generate the fucking motion they both needed.  
    

Derek choked on his next breath, a shuddering moan leaving him as he came, hips stuttering and jerking as waves of pleasure rippled through his body. He had enough sense to focus his hand’s attentions solely on Stiles, gripping his boyfriend’s cock and squeezing him tight. Stiles groaned loudly, hands gripping Derek’s back tight as he found his orgasm, shaking from it so much he almost dislodged Derek. He knew his boyfriend’s habits well though, and rode through it with him. He released Stiles’ cock, knowing it got sensitive quickly and instead rubbed his hand over his boyfriend’s belly which was covered in both of their semen.  
    

As they came down Derek let his body relax, wrapping Stiles in his arms and shifting enough so not all of his weight was on top of his lover. He sighed, slotting their legs together and pressing his spent cock into Stiles’ side. He closed his eyes, smiling at the contentment that always flowed through him after having sex with Stiles. Every orgasm Stiles pulled from his body washed away everything but a sense of gratification tangled with pure happiness.  
    

Stiles chuckled, body vibrating against Derek’s. Derek didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes. Stiles’ mind flowed so quickly from one thought to the next that he often ended up somewhere amusing. The chuckling didn’t taper off though; it grew into a full blow laugh. “Oh my god, Derek.” Stiles breathed between laughs.  
    

Derek resisted the urge to grumble as he was shifted from the peaceful plane he had been in. “What?” he said, shifting to lean on one arm over Stiles.   
    

His boyfriend was laughing and looking at his nightstand. His nightstand where the breakfast Derek had made for them (and had forgotten in pursuit of sexy times) was still sitting. Stiles reached out and grabbed the banana Derek had placed in between the plates of pancakes. He held the fruit and laughed some more, eyes crinkled at the edges and bright as he looked up at Derek. “Did you seriously bring me a banana? After last night?”  
    

Derek smiled. “I made banana pancakes too.”  
    

Stiles reached up and hauled Derek in for a kiss. “Oh man. You came in here and sexed me up good so I wouldn't be mad about it anymore. And now you’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”  
    

Derek pulled back to smirk wolfishly at Stiles. “Never. You got tripped up by a fucking banana, Stiles. That’s such a rookie mistake.”  
    

Stiles laughed louder, reeling Derek in for more quick kisses that broke off every time he chuckled as their breakfast got colder.  
    

Just because Derek understood why Stiles had gotten mad, consequently causing him to respond with apology pancakes and make-up sex, didn’t mean he wasn’t going to lord his victory over his boyfriend for the rest of their days.  
    

And it was all thanks to a stupid fucking banana.

**Author's Note:**

> In my head the way the title of this work is pronounced is like Stuart from the movie Minions. Ba-Na-Na!!!! Just watch one of the trailers, you'll know what I'm talking about.
> 
> P.S. - I realize it's actually a banana peel used in Mario Kart. I just couldn't get Stuart's voice saying Ba-Na-Na out of my head while writing this.
> 
> Whew, two oneshots in one week. I'm on a roll.
> 
> Anyone interested in chatting about story ideas? I'm not really looking for a beta reader (though no doubt I could use one) just someone to ramble about ideas and bemoan the lack Tyler Hoechlin's abs in season 5.


End file.
